


Got a bad idea

by Requestedgems



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) RPF
Genre: DBH, Dbh: gavin, Drunk Reader, F/M, Gavin Needs a Hug, Gavin Reed - Freeform, Gavin Reed fanfic, M/M, Sassy Reader, You need a hug, bad idea, dbh fanfic, dbh gavin reed, detroit become human - Freeform, first time writing for him, gavin Reed fanfiction, gavin being nice for once in his life, gavin calling you sweetheart all the time, gavin reed/reader - Freeform, gavin the jerkface, hidden feelings for reader, honestly, in my head, mwahhhahaa, reader that’s in his/her feelings, wrote this at 11 and finished it at 2 because I have noooo life, you - Freeform, you are sassy, you aren’t having it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 20:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Requestedgems/pseuds/Requestedgems
Summary: Or Gavin discovers you drunk and comes to see about you





	Got a bad idea

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble but then I sat here and wrote like 2.1k and Ariana Grande’s new album is a bop and this was inspired heavily by bad idea and in my head.

The lights were bright, the music ear splittingly loud but you loved it. You _needed_ this. Out of the house, away from ice cream and tissues and memories. Too many memories.

You swung your hips in time with the music and lost yourself in the bass. Each pulse could be felt in every fiber of your being and you smiled, letting your head fall back.

Your balance was off, not a lot, but just enough that you knew you were feeling that third shot and honestly something about this just felt right. Even though your gaze was clouding and the ceiling began to warp, you began to laugh, _hard_.

It meant no more icky, gross, and annoying feelings. It meant no more heartbreak, or tears, or staring at your phone waiting for a text you knew wasn’t coming.

It meant _freedom_.

Even if that meant not feeling for a while because it was tiring and you’ve cried enough tears. Your throat was raw from all these feelings and you were tired of feeling tired all the time.

Another few turns around the floor and you sat down, even you knew there was limit and considering the ceiling was now on the wall, it was time for a break. Panting, you pushed your wet hair out your face and rested your face in your hands.

“(Y/n)! What the hell do you think you’re doin’ here?” If you weren’t so drunk, you might have been able to think of a witty response to the asshole walking over to you.

You groaned, audibly, and sat there saying nothing. Gavin Reed. The man who thinks he runs everything. He doesn’t, but you weren’t gonna tell him that; you had a heart, unlike him.

He tends to pick on you a lot and this was not the time. You came to the club to get away from annoying and there he was resting on a silver platter with a jacket that’s just a bit too tight.

Only yesterday he was teasing you about the android and Hank saying, “is that your little pet?” and damn if you didn’t punch him as hard as your hand would allow.

You smirked, finding his cheek still purple.

“Hey, _sweetheart_ ,” His pokes infuriated you. “I’m talking to you.”

Before he even so much as put a finger on you, his wrist was facing backwards. Even drunk you still got the upper hand. “Call me that one more time and I’ll break your arm.”

Your head pounded now and you knew good and well getting out of here was a very wise thing to do. You let his flimsy excuse for a wrist go and held your head, groaning a bit. You would need to build up enough strength to even make it to the door, let alone getting a ride; you knew better than to drive in this state.

This retard still didn’t get the hint. “What’s wrong, _sweetheart_? Feeling down?” You swung. _Hard_. But you missed and wobbled and nearly slammed to the ground had it not been for his arms — which were annoyingly strong — around you.

“Gavin Reed, if you dunt leb me goo, I sweer.” It was no use, your lips were going numb.

His breath was too close to your ear and he was too close to you and he held you just a bit too tight and the walls were spinning and you were fading, _fast_ , and-

“What you gonna do, _sweetheart_? Hit me?” You didn’t have the energy and you were nearly limp. He had to support most of your weight and you leaned into him a bit, against your better judgement.

This was frustrating. All you wanted was a night out to yourself and in walks the most fury inducing person you’ve ever met in your entire existence and now you were leaning on him, _leaning on him_ , because you’re so hammered holding yourself up is now the hardest thing in the world.

This was not how this night was supposed to go.

And now the whole room was moving and suddenly your eyes were shutting against the lights because oh my god they’re so bright. His shrill voice cuts through the fog around you. “(Y/n)?”

You can’t respond, your lips long gone immovable, and turns you around so you’re looking in his eyes and he can see how red they’re turning and how they’re barely keeping themselves open.

“Jesus, (y/n). You’re a mess. Connor wasn’t lying when he said he was worried.” His fingers pry your eyes open and your head is swimming, swimming with images you refuse to see right now and you just want to close your eyes and sleep and make it all go away. “How are you even standing right now?”

You wanted to say, _because you’re holding me the hell up_ but you settle with an eye roll because another wave of nausea hits, this one worse than the others. You point to the table and pull away from him to get there but he moves you over there, gently obeying you.

Honestly it surprises you, his _not_ brash nature because you weren’t even aware he had one.

He sets you down and stays beside you, ordering a water from the bartender. It takes a few tries and clenched eyes before the sick feeling passes and you’re able to see the room a bit better than before; at least it’s not spinning anymore.

He hands you the water bottle and you take some heavily needed gulps and it helps. It chases away the hot flashes and the icky feeling in your throat. The walls stop moving and you start to feel your legs again. Okay, this is good. This is progress.

But now Gavin’s watching you, like _watching_ watching. Staring so hard that you’re about to ask him to give you his phone and take a picture of yourself so he can stare at that instead of the side of your face. It’s irritating, even more so that you’re trying to sober up for his sake.

Your eyes are sealed shut when he speaks again. “I’ve never seen you this way, (y/n).”

You must be sobering because the next words are an adequate response for you. “Got to hell, Gavin.” You grit your teeth and fight off another fit of sickness.

“Look,” He sighs and somehow you know, through his voice and the way you know he’s sitting, that his words are serious and he isn’t kidding. “I came because the android’s freaking out and he and Hank are out doing god knows what and honestly they’re worried about you.”

You sigh and take another sip of the water, letting the water sit on your tongue before swallowing.

“I’m a bit worried to.”

This isn’t happening. Gavin Reed, the jerkface of the department actually cares about you? The end is near, it’s got to be, that or you’re hallucinating. Considering the water you’re drinking tastes real, this is no hallucination.

You wave your hand to tell him to _piss off_ and try to stand again, but your stupid legs won’t cooperate.

Gavin catches you easily and pulls you into him so he’s got both arms around your waist. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m gonna get you home, whether you like it or not, _sweetheart_.”

….

The cab is cold, it’s 2am after all, and the ride is gonna take at least forty-five long minutes of your time. This sucks and your head pounds so you drink more of the water Gavin bought you and stare out of the window to watch the city pass you by.

Gavin watches you, you can see it in the glass of the window. Your fury has died down and now you feel regret, a hard pit of it in your stomach that grows the longer he looks at you. You shouldn’t have come out or got as drunk as you did; that was reckless and dumb and the stupidest thing you could have done.

“What happened?” He’s still watching you. This is all sooo confusing. Still, you don’t know if it’s the calm, non-asshole demeanor or the remnants of the alcohol impacting your judgement, but you decide to enlighten him.

“Boyfriend finds a girl he doesn’t know at the bar. I didn’t hear anything from him for a while, I called him a couple times. He told me he’s at work. I go to surprise him with his favorite cup of coffee; he’s not there. I check his favorite bar and sure enough, there he is, sucking another girl’s face.” You smile a bit; it’s bitter, but it’s a smile and you lean your head back against the headrest because this is the last thing you wanna talk about with the last person you want to talk to about this with.

But here you are.

Gavin doesn’t say anything for a while and the silence makes your head pound. “He’s an idiot.” It’s quiet but a comment although he can’t bring himself to look at you.

Why so shy, Gavin?

You don’t say anything back either because you’re still flabbergasted that he’s being this way. Maybe the fumes got to his head, that’s gotta be it. Another sip of your water later and you feel his eyes on your face again and now you’ve got to figure out what the hell is going on.

“Why do you keep doing that?” You find his steel eyes on yours.

“What?” His eyebrows are raised and his little piece of hair fell in his face and suddenly you want to reach out and fix it but this isn’t you, this is the alcohol talking.

“Looking at me?” You try to sound peeved but you don’t convince yourself.

He rolls his eyes. “Oh what? So I can’t look at you?”

“That’s not what I meant, _smartass_.” Your blood begins to boil. “ _Staring_. Why were you staring at me?”

He watches you for a second before turning to look out the window and soon the car is filled with silence. You don’t press it because if he can’t explain it, you probably don’t want to know and so you take another sip of your water and stare out the window again.

….

You get out of the car with haste and begin to walk in the building when Gavin calls over to you again and you know you really want to wring his neck. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Into my apartment building, _dumbass_.” It’s cold and you’re exhausted and if you have to stand in this damn cold any longer your gonna freeze.

Gavin jogs over to you, his breath coming in puffs. “Wait.” He stands there a minute. “I..You-you sure you’re alright?”

You don’t have time for this. He’s confusing you and you’re angry and cold and frustrated and this is all about to come out in a flurry of fists if he doesn’t let you power stomp your way to your apartment.

“Yes.” It’s short and carries a weight that says _leave me alone_ but he doesn’t and now you’re pissed.

“You’re absolutely sure? I don’t want the android to think I broke you or something.” He’s a child, an actual child.

You sigh and wave your card over the outer door and the light hums green. “You can run back to Connor and boast about what a fantastic job you did. Two gold stars.”

But now you’re not in front of the door, you’re right in front of Gavin and he’s pressed you tightly against him, his gaze direct and unwavering. And now his lips are on yours and—oh.

This is much softer than you thought. He’s gentle but eases you a little closer and you never thought you’d be thinking this but Gavin Reed is an actual teddybear and this isn’t so bad, nice even.

When he stops, he looks back at you with worried eyes and this hesitance, as if he’s stepped over some line he’s not supposed to cross, which he kinda did but that kiss wasn’t something you expected.

And then you did something you never thought you would do in your life. You kissed Gavin again but this time a little harder and now you were pressed against his chest, folding into it like it was made for you and it feels like it is.

He keeps your foreheads against each other. “Looks like you might like me, sweetheart.” He breathes out and the smirk that paints his face makes you a little infuriated but you also think it’s kind of cute? _The alcohol_.

“Yeah, don’t get your hopes up.” You look down because you can’t stand that look in his face, like he’s won some contest.

“Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart, should I kiss you again?” You want to slap him.

 


End file.
